


Bloodbath Rose

by CrowKing, kee_writestrashh



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood, Dark, Dark Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Kinky, Light BDSM, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shameless Smut, Smut, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-03-13 20:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13578165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowKing/pseuds/CrowKing, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kee_writestrashh/pseuds/kee_writestrashh
Summary: Based on a 'Letter' Ramsay writes to a beautiful little Tyrell. The letter and it's contents belong to the wonderfully amazing Crowking, who has given me permission to use it. [Thus why I added her as co-creator, because she deserves ALL the kudos]This will be a very dark romance and there will be much blood. ;D





	1. The Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone gets confused... I will be using SHOW characters. However, I AM tying in book aspects as well, like the other Tyrell brothers and such. But using Face Claims from the show for the characters that have been/are in the show.

 

 

> _Lady Althea,_
> 
> _You dangerous sweetling. You awful beautiful thing._
> 
> _I always thought I knew what I liked. I like making people do what I tell them to do. I like power. I like watching my enemies fall and fade away into nothing. I didn’t think I would like southern girls. I always thought you lot were such pompous and spoiled brats._
> 
> _I was wrong. You are not what I thought you were. I’ve seen your older sister, Margaery. Yes, she’s beautiful and kind and wonderful. But I don’t want beautiful, kind, or wonderful. I want something else. I want gorgeous, wild, and haunting. And you. Oh, my dear. You haunted me._
> 
> _I remember you walking across the grounds. While your southern family shivered and whined about the cold, you stood still looking around your surroundings. You were covered in wolf’s fur and your dress skirts flowed around you. You looked like you had walked out of my dreams and into reality. Your eyes stared me down demanding nothing but respect and attention. Your nails were sharp, and when my lips met your soft skin your wicked smile told me everything I needed to know._
> 
> _You truly are the poisonous flower in your family aren’t you? If I had you, you would the only thing I ever need. Althea, you must know how much power you have held over me since your eyes met mine. My mind has wandered to our meeting more than I’d like to admit. I have thought of you when I’m with my lovers. I thought of you at night when I’m alone._
> 
> _If I had you, I could show you how powerful the North could be. Think of it, a Bolton and a Tyrell ruling over the North as if it was always ours. I’d like to see how pretty you would be commanding over a room of our inferiors._
> 
> _I would like to see you again. I would have the best room prepared just for you along with anything else you would like. I wish to fill every appetite you crave. Any fruit you want will be yours. Any wine your thirst for will be yours. Because I certainly crave you and I will have you whining and pining for me. You will be mine._
> 
> _I’m only getting started, Althea. Come to me._
> 
> _Ramsay_

She stood there, clutching the letter, running her thumb over the broken wax seal of house Bolton, staring out her window.

It was a beautiful, sunny day. It was not too warm, or too windy. A perfect day to maybe go hawking with Willas.

Althea looked back down at the letter in her hands and felt her cheeks warm. He had taken an interest in her.

Althea was the youngest of the Tyrell lot. And while she had been graced by the gods with beauty to rival her elder sister, Margaery, she was sort of the odd man out. 

While all of her siblings had inherited the trademark curly brown Tyrell hair, Althea had favored the Redwyne traits of red hair and a splash of freckles across her cheekbones and bridge of her nose. 

She had often been teased as a child that she was surely a bastard. She may have had the cheekbones, nose, and lanky figure of a Tyrell, but her hair kissed of fire did not belong. 

Her grandmother had told her to fear not, because at one point in her life "thousands of moons ago now" Olenna Redwyne-Tyrell also had deep red hair.

Her favorite feature of herself though, were her eyes. A deep green hazel. When the sun hit them just right they almost sparkled gold. But when the sun was clouded they were a perfect mossy green and brown. Like the base of tree trunks.

Althea loved trees. To sit and sew under them. To climb them. To draw them. Even to just feel the rough bark. They made her feel strong and rooted.

Margaery and Loras often teased her about this. Trees. What a silly thing to love when there were flowers and other such beauties.

But Althea liked the trees and thorns and brambles. The beauties that were overlooked because they caused pain. The blood to well. And looked like eye sores as far as anyone considered thorns and brambles.

Althea just thought things like that should be admired for what they were. Dangerous and beautiful in their destruction.

She shook her head slightly, as if trying to rid an annoying fly. She flipped her loose curls behind her, pulled open her writing desk drawer, placed the latter inside carefully, and left her chambers.

She had decided she would go riding and hawking with Willas. It was too fine an afternoon not to.

Her boots echoed down the white stone halls of the castle as she tried all of her eldest brother's usual haunts. 

Perhaps he was out in the yard? Reading under a tree. Hm. That sounded like a fine idea too.

Althea held a closer bond with her two eldest brothers. Willas was smart and deep. They would talk ideas and theories for hours at a time. Or talk of the different animals he bred. He was modest and did not like to brag, but Willas bred the finest hawks, horses, and hounds in the Seven Kingdoms. Willas was not as physically active as he had once been. He had once been a strong fighter, but an accident at jousting ruined his leg. But he was efficient as raping you smartly with his cane if you got too mouthy.

Then there was Garlan. He was a noble fighter and strong knight. He was charged with looking after the Tyrell bannermen and armies. He was more "action" than Willas, who naturally chose wit and words. But that was just Garlan's personality. Loud and proud. He had taught her to use a sword and bow. Mother had not approved, but she had begged amd promised to keep up with her lessons and sewing. It was Grandmother who had finally persuaded Mother to let Althea learn to fight.

" _Alerie, let the girl learn. Even without your permission she will learn one way or another. She is a strongwilled child. She may need to use it someday with that sharp tongue and temper._ "

And of course there were Loras and Margaery. The pride and joy of the Tyrell's. The Little Queen and the Knight of Flowers. Everyone adored them, and now Margaery was promised to the King. Loras was being made a part of the Kings Guard.

The received so much love the other three Tyrell children were overlooked. But Althea was not exactly jealous. She was as beautiful as her sister. And she was as smart and cunning. She had a great mind for politics and schemes. However, Margaery and Loras were coveted. 

But now Althea was too. The Bastard of Bolton had said he wanted her.

As she neared the solar she could hear voices. And a voice she had not heard in awhile was among the other three.

She gave a knock and received an 'enter'.

She pushed open the door to see Willas, her mother, her father, and her grandmother sitting around the table. She was excited to see Grandmother Olenna sitting there. Her father as well, but mostly her grandmother.

"Father! Grandmother! I didn't know you were coming home!" She exclaimed, excitedly, rushing to hug them both. But then her smile dropped, "Wait. Why are you here? Is... is everything alright?"

"We are here because of you little flower. Sit. We need to discuss your future." Olenna said, giving Althea a quick hug and nodding at the empty seat beside her.

Glancing between everyone she took the seat, lacing her slender fingers together and resting them in her lap.

"Althea, it is high time for us to find you a suitor." Her father, Mace, stated.

She gave a nod, she knew this was coming.

"Our trip to negotiate trade in the North went very well, and it seems you caught the eye of Lord Bolton's son..." Willas began.

"Mace, no! Do not let Willas do this!" Her mother cut in. "The North is no place for our children. And I will not allow our daughter to marry a **bastard**! Especially not _that one_! Don't act like you haven't heard the rumors."

"Mother, please. It is politically sound. With Margie marrying the king and securing our ties with the Lannisters, why should we not secure ties with the North as well? Think about the security that puts our house in." Willas said, laying a letter on the table.

Althea saw it bore the Bolton crest.

Alerie bristled and gave Mace a very hard glare.

Mace cleared his throat, "Now, my lady wife, if Lord Bolton can ensure Althea's saftey, why not? He is Warden of the North now. No one holds more power there than he."

"The boy is a bastard!" Her mother cried.

"And Roose's only living heir. If his grace signs to papers to legitimize the boy, Althea will birth babes with the Bolton name, be Lady Bolton, and wife to the Warden of the North. Her children will be wardens. They will rule the North. And we will have their military support." Olenna said, her look impassive and bored.

"Besides mother, while Althea, Garlan, and I were there with our host, while Margie and Loras came as part if the royal party to discuss a new ruling over the North, Ramsay did not act the type to have such rumors about him. He was well behaved. I'll admit his humor was a bit dark, but I never saw him take part in any of those violent things he has been accused of." Willas added, holding up the letter again. "Lord Bolton was very straightforward in his letter, and I believe it to be the best political move we can make, outside of Margaery becoming queen."

Her mother turned to her, looking at her through eyes that clearly begged her for once to actually cause a ruckus. 

But, she was hung up on the charming Bastard.

"Mother," she said slowly, breathing in deeply and closing her eyes, "I must play my role for the greatness of our house." She opened her eyes and gave a wan smile, "besides, I enjoyed my time in the North. It's very beautiful. And Lord Bolton's son will give you beautiful grandchildren."

Mace clapped his hands together in joy, "that settles it then. Write to Lord Bolton and tell him we agree to the terms and House Tyrell is at his service."

Alerie dropped her head in defeat before rising from her seat, gathering up her skirts, and leaving without a word.

Althea shot Olenna a look, who gave a slight nod and wink to silently say they would be speaking in private later. She then looked at her father who beamed at her stupidly. He wasn't a very smart man. Finally, her eyes fell on Willas as he pushed himself up on his cane and offered a smile.

"When will I be leaving?" She asked.

"In a fortnight, sweet sister." Willas said, squeezing her arm as he walked past.


	2. The Warning

\--A

There came a knock on the door.

"Enter!" Althea tittered, replacing the letter from Ramsay back in her drawer, and re-situating the needle work on her lap.

Slowly, the door opened and in walked Olenna.

Althea smiled warmly at her grandmother and watched her as she crossed the room to take a seat across from her; resting heavily in the chair, hands resting one on the other on her cane.

"So?" Olenna said, watching Althea closely.

"So what?" 

"What are your thoughts, truly?" The old woman asked rather bluntly.

Althea's cheeks warmed slightly and she let a shy grin form.

"Well..." She started slowly, "I think it was meant to be. It has been a few moons since arriving back here, but just this morning I received a letter from him. Then I am informed that Lord Bolton has requested my hand for his son. All in the same day. It seems as though the gods will it."

"He sent you a letter?" Olenna asked, raising a brow.

Althea nodded, taking the letter out and handing it to her grandmother.

Olenna took a long time reading the letter, as if examining and reexamining each word carefully. Finally, Olenna tutted, handed the letter back, and gave her youngest grandchild a long, stern look.

"He mentioned lovers." She said rather bluntly.

"What of it? He has been a bastard his whole life. What could he have possibly thought to gain by waiting?" Althea said with a small shrug.

"And how many bastards of his own has he fathered because of these... _lovers_?" 

Althea let a frown tug at her smile.

"Tell me about him." 

"He is rather charming. He's funny too. I don't think people understand it, because it is rather dark. But I think that makes it funnier. The reaction on people's faces. For a bastard he is very intelligent. He has a sound mind for warfare. Politically he is lacking. But I think that is a man thing. To not always think things through before acting. But, maybe I could help him there. He is not very strong with the sword, but I hear he is very able with a bow. Which I admire. I find the bow to be more... deadly. More cunning."

"You would know all about cunning, my sweet little flower. You are a Tyrell and a Redwyne. And now you shall be a Bolton. remind me again what their words are." Olenna nodded.

"Our blades are sharp." Althea said, with a dark grin.

"Listen to me child. This Ramsay may be charming, as you say, but he is the reflection of his father. Roose is not a man who can be swayed. He is not to be underestimated. He is every part as a lord should be. But he lacks the understanding of the people. Or maybe it is just the simple lack of caring." 

Althea rolled her eyes, "Grandmother, I am every bit as much what Margaery is. Look what she did to that ignorant boy king. If she can do that to a mindless boy, I can do the same to Ramsay. The people of King's Landing may love Margaery, but the people of the North would give their lives for me. By Ramsay's side, I can achieve more than just a simple ruling in the North. I may be the forgotten sister. But I am the Rose with Thorns. The North is mine."

Olenna tilted her head slightly and gave a wide grin, "You are even more like I than I thought, Thea. But listen to this old woman. Indeed I may be old, but I am not blind, nor am I deaf. There is a reason this boy has gained the rumors being spread around about him. He may charm you, but never let him capture you. He may have hidden it from you, but I do not for a second doubt the rumors are true. I know Roose Bolton, and his son is likely to be just as cruel if not worse. Althea, heed my **warning**. You _must_ play the game. Better than him. Never let your guard down. If the bastard tries to hurt you, _you kill him_."

With that Olenna rose from her seated perch and walked to the door. As she placed her hand on the knob she turned back to Althea, "You will ride with us to King's Landing. Margaery and Loras are very much excited to see you before you make your way North."

 

××R

Roose stormed through the halls, descending to the damned dungeon when his son was nowhere else to be found. He should have known to come here first.

Sure enough, there was Ramsay, sneering and laughing cruelly at his newest victim. Roose frowned deeply, and cleared his throat outside the cell Ramsay had chosen to use for today's "games".

Ramsay turned to his father wearing his wide grin. "Good afternoon, father." He said sweetly.

"Go clean up and meet me in my solar, immediately." Roose snapped, turning on his heel and leaving as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Ramsay raised his brows in curiosity, but set down the dull blade he had been using, and followed his father from the dark, damp dungeons.

He entered the wash room to somewhat clean up. There was no point in becoming completely clean, he would go back to what he had been doing once his father had finished with. When he had at least washed all the dried blood from under his nails, he dried his hands and set off to fund his father. Boots falling heavily on the dark stone of Winterfell.

He pushed into his father's solar without knocking.

Roose sat at his desk and nodded at an empty seat across from him. 

Ramsay noticed his father holding a scroll. He took his seat, waiting. He looked around at the room, covered in candles, furs, books, and dust. Winterfell may have been almost finished rebuilding, but it remained as unkempt looking as though it had not been lived in for hundreds of years. But now that the move from the Dreadfort to here had been successful, Ramsay was sure his father would have this place shining in no time. Though, he did wonder what the plan for the Dreadfort was. Ramsay wanted the Dreadfort. To be Lord of the Dreadfort, not simply the Bastard of the Dreadfort. 

Roose glanced over the unfurled scroll before clearing his throat and looking up at Ramsay. 

"The Tyrell's have accepted my offer to marry you to their youngest daughter, Althea." Roose began.

The news made Ramsay's heart skip a beat and he wrestled to hide the delight.

"However, the wedding is not to take place until King Joffrey naturalizes you as a Bolton and my heir. Until then, we will be playing host to Lady Althea. It gives her the opportunity to learn our ways, customs, and traditions..."

Ramsay smirked at that.

Roose gave a sharp, cold glare, "which brings me to my next statement. Ramsay, I will give you **one** _warning_. If you hurt this girl in anyway, either before or after marriage, I will take away everything you think belongs to you. Your birthright and all. We have need of the Tyrell's. Their food and building materials. With winter approaching we cannot afford to lose anything because of your ludicrous games. Do I make myself clear?"

Ramsay gave Roose a very long look before giving a curt nod, "yes, father."

"Good. You are free to go."

"When will Lady Althea be here?"

"By the way the ravens fly, she should already be on her way."

Ramsay got up, and walked out of the solar, his wicked smirk in place at what was in store when his little rose arrived. 

He practically skipped down to the dungeon, where Reek sat, nervously, waiting on him to return.

"Oh Reek, it's looking like a beautiful day. Do you know why?" Ramsay smiled.

"N-no, m'lord." Reek muttered, wringing his hands and watching the ground.

"Why, because I'm letting you go." Ramsay said, culling the sneer from his voice to sound more sincere.

Reek snapped his eyes up to Ramsay's face, confused and afraid.

Ramsay gave a wicked sneer, "Good. I see you are not hopeful to ever leave me. Do you love me, Reek?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"But really Reek. Do you love your master? Are you a good pet? You will never leave me?"

"Reek loves his master. Master Ramsay is good to Reek and Reek will never leave him." 

"Good boy. You may get a little extra food when I feed you. Now run along and ready the bitches. I feel like hunting today. I need to clear space for my soon to be lady wife's arrival." 


	3. The arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a slow chapter. but i had to slip a few things in to set the mood before lighting the match to light this slow burn. ;D

The journey had been long and tedious. But also exciting. Althea loved to travel. It was exciting. So many new things. She could make this journey a thousand times, and still be excited with every quarter mile.

But, as the party made their way ever onward, she began to get antsy. Excited to be starting her new life. Making her new way. She held nothing really in the South. Not with so many siblings. But here, in the North? It was all hers. And no one would take that away from her. The Boltons now holding the seat of power in this vast wilderness. And with her politically sound mind... well, nothing could stop house Bolton from prospering.

It had been a fairly easy ride since leaving King's Landing. She had spent a couple days under the hospitality of Margaery and Tommen. Tommen was likable enough, and Althea knew that Margie would be able to do great things through her new husband. Margaery was happy, at least. Or as far as she knew happiness anyways. She had that crown and title, but Althea felt sorry that Margaery would never know love. Yet, she did hope the gods would make it so that one day maybe her sister would grow to actually love something other than herself. Tommen had lent some of his men to escort Althea and her small party, to the Twins. 

Althea hated this damn place as much as the last time. She found the Frey men to be arrogant and disrespectful. And there were sooo many. Being there also made her feel deeply saddened for the Stark family. But as far as anyone knew... they were all dead. Sansa had been the last one seen, but after Joffrey's death, she disappeared. Althea couldn't have been happier than to get away from the Frey's. If only she could have the eyes of every man that looked at her wrong. Filthy bastards. 

The only thing left Althea had to keep her mind occupied when she grew tired of conversation with Garlan and her handmaiden, Kari, was the letter that lord Ramsay had written to her. How she spent many hours of the long journey thinking of the charming young man. Of course, she had heard the stories that circulated around Ramsay, no doubt. There were even a few that she believed. However, was it really so bad? Althea was a well read young woman. And by what she gathered of the rumors, even those she thought might indeed be true, he wasn't really so different than any other man in any of the other houses. Yes, the Bolton banners were not ones to make you feel safe when seeing them from the other side of the battlefield, however, they can't have been the worst house to ever live. Look at the Targaryens and forcing the people's of Westeros to just suddenly agree to becoming their subjects. And they had dragons to eat those who opposed them. Even that Starks didn't have as clean of hands as people thought. The Boltons may have taken flaying their enemies further than others, but flaying was a northern tradition for a very long time.

But above all else, like every Tyrell and Redwyne before her, Althea was a manipulator. She always got what she wanted in the end. Little did she know, though, just how cunning and manipulating Ramsay Bolton was too. He also got everything his heart desired. Nobody kept anything from the evil man when he decided he wanted it. This would really be a game of wits and will. Two players who were overly smart in ways that were deadly. Althea had an advantage though. Her name. House Tyrell. There may be hundreds of miles between the North and Highgarden, but House Tyrell controlled much more than people actually came to realize. Mainly in the form of food from their prosperous lands house Tyrell controlled in the Reach. 

"Al! Althea! Wake up." Garlan said loudly, rapping the door of the carriage sharply.

Althea jerked awake, looking around with bleary eyes. "What?" She said, opening the window to glance outside. Garlan's broad horse was the first thing she saw.

"We are approaching Winterfell. Word has been sent for House Bolton to make ready to receive us."

"Is my horse readied?" Althea asked with a small yawn. When did she fall asleep? How long had she been asleep? How much of an unreceivable mess did she look? The blankets and furs had just been so comfortable... She shook her head slightly and cleared the drowsiness.

"Aye. Ready when you are." Garlan said, nudging his horse forward.

Althea had the driver stop and she layered on her many warm garments and thick, heavy woolen cloak before stepping out into the cold. Garlan helped her climb atop her horse, and they set off together to the head of the party, Winterfell just coming into view. The cold air on her face waking her completely and making her eyes water slightly in the breeze. Almost instantly she felt her cheeks redden and nose go numb. But she felt none of it, because she was too excited. Her destination finally visible. A hot bath. A plush bed. And every hoof step her horse took, brought her closer to the man her family had agreed she would marry. It was a strong move politically.

The horns blew to welcome the arrival of her party. The yard packed as the rode through the gates. Everyone interested to meet the new Lady Bolton as she would be called in the weeks to come. A few familiar faces she saw among the crowd from her last, brief visit. Gracious smiles given in their directions before her eyes landed no lord Roose Bolton, and then to Ramsay. he looked very smug with himself, his smirk broad and eyes glittering in the weak sun that was attempting to push through the clouds. He stepped forward, offering hi hand to help Althea from her horse before those of her own house could help. She took his hand promptly and slid from the horse, standing tall and proud, smiling warmly to the man before her. She then turned to Roose and gave a proper curtsy as Garlan gave a bow.

"My Lord Bolton, it is an honor for you to receive us so graciously." Garlan said, as though it were some well rehearsed line.

"And it is an honor to have you Lord Garlan and Lady Althea. I take it you a tired from your travels. I shall have your things taken to the room we have had prepared and let you rest before we sup tonight." Roose said in his usual, cool tone, inclining his head to the Tyrell siblings. He then shot a look to his son who gave a short nod, offering his arm to Althea.

"If you will follow me my lady." He said in tones of silk and honey.

Althea cast a look to Garlan, who gave her an encouraging nod. Without further hesitation she took to Ramsay's arm and let him tug her along. Through the castle doors and Althea felt she could melt into a puddle from how warm it was in the castle. They said Winterfell was built over hot springs, and the walls had water pipes in the walls to keep the castle warm, and run water to the bathing areas. Hot water on demand, Althea did really like the sound of that. 

"I take it that your journey went well?" Ramsay said, leading her down a hall off the main entrance.

"Yes, my lord. Just boring mostly. And never ending." Althea nodded, giving him another kind smile.

Ramsay paused, glancing up and down the hall before dropping her arm and turning to face her. "And of my letter?"

Althea couldn't help but feel intimidated by him. And his words... oh how hot her cheeks felt almost at once. She made to open her mouth but found that the words were somehow lodged in her throat by flustered embarrassment. She closed her mouth again, and offered Ramsay a meek smile.

"Good." He hummed, a twisted sort of smirk creeping up before he leaned in and placed his lips to her cheek. "Rest well, little rose." He whispered at her ear before pulling away, and pushing open the chamber door beside them. He gave her a deep bow and then left her standing there. Cheek on fire where his lips had been. Teeth biting into the inside of her bottom lip at the way his whisper had sounded in her ear. It was then she decided, Ramsay Bolton was a dangerous man to be left alone with if she hoped to keep any innocence intact before their wedding night. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know: the name Althea plays many ironic and important roles in the development of this Tyrell character? Shrub Althea is a plant often referred to as a variation of the plant called Rose of Sharon, which is a hardy flowering plant that survives even in harsh climates and environments with bright beautiful flowers sure to catch the eye. In Greek the name means healer and wholesome. The name is also mentioned in a very famous poem written by Richard Lovelace in 1642, called "To Althea, from Prison".


End file.
